Fable: The Return Chapter 7
The King of Albion faces three shadows summoned from the dark pit known as The Void. Chapter 7 The king was down on his knees deep in the darkness of a chamber far below the surface of Albion. He was far away from anyone being able to hear him if he screamed. He was helpless without his weapons or his gauntlets; he could not fight and he cannot use Will power. His only hope would have to be Reaver, but he has doubts that Reaver's pistol will do much good against shadows. Reaver stood far behind the king, leaning against a table with his pistol in hand. "You have been waiting for me?" the king finally spoke. The shadow to the left spoke; it was a man's voice: one who had been tortured and lived in silence for ages. It was soft, but, at the same time, hard. "Yes, Hero, we have waited long for your arrival." "Why? What am I to you… creatures?" "You have already given us free reign of your…kingdom," the shadow laughed. "In due time, you will give us the world, and it shall burn." "You will never burn Albion! Creatures like you have tried in the past, they have all failed." The middle shadow spoke once more in the voice of the woman, "Do not speak to us like we are simple-minded fools. We are more powerful than you could possibly imagine! If mongrels like the Shadow Court can turn a peaceful village into an infested marshland just because of a pirate's wish…then you have much to fear from their masters." Reaver smirked lightly to the shadow's reference to his dark past. "And you are their masters, I presume?" "In our own way. We are everyone's masters in the Void, and soon we shall be everyone's masters out of the Void." "You will not rule these people." The king got to his feet and stared into the burning eyes of the middle shadow. "Not while I stand here as King of Albion. I swore to repel the darkness that plagues the world and to protect my people. I will fear no darkness, I am without… fear." The shadow on the left spoke again, "Fear is of no concern to us, we do not need your fear. You will not fear us, but you will feel pain. Even if it is not physical pain, we may not even touch you. The pain you are going to feel is that of your own heart, your own pride, and your mind. We will torture the ones you love, we will kill the ones you rule, we will ravage the land you have watched over, and we will…once and for all…burn Albion." "Not while I am King; not while I stand here." He stood strong, defiant toward the powerful creatures before his gaze. His eyes pierced through them with a newborn fire. "The people of Albion will fight you, and I shall lead them against you." Finally, the shadow on the right spoke with a burning intensity. His voice boomed through the chamber, his demonic tone sending chills down the king's spine. "Good luck, Hero." The shadows dissolved into the darkness of the chamber, swiftly moving around the cavern. The shadows to the right and the middle flowed down past the broken flooring, down into the dark abyss below them. The leftmost shadow slipped past the king's face, grazing his long beard. Reaver stood, smirking as always, as the shadow continued to move before him. It stopped, red fires of its eyes burning once more, and stared into the cold eyes of Reaver. Reaver spoke and pointed his pistol at the black mist in front of him. "Shadows don't belong out of their realm. I have my own vendetta with a few just like you. Oh, how I have stood in my many estates, sending unknowing soldiers, workers, slaves, little boys and girls to be fed to the hungry shadows in Wraithmarsh. How I look them all in the eyes and knowingly send them to their doom, I take their life away. I have made a living of making the citizens of Albion suffer and die for my own well doing, I would sit back and relax in my chair as the people burned. In my centuries, I have seen people and places burn. I saw those dark minions of the Shadow Court kill all that I knew and loved. They live through me with my eternal youth, and I go by day by day living with the hatred I have for those damned beasts living under the marshes. I hold hatred in my heart and my pistol, if you say you are here to kill the people of Albion then I cannot deny you; I do it myself, after all. But…if you think you will kill me," Reaver chuckled playfully, "well my friend you are a fool." He fired his black pistol into the mist. It had no effect. The shadow moved behind Reaver, flowing to the bodies of the guard and the miner who had fallen down the hole. The darkness moves through the mouth and the eyes of the fallen elite guard. Moments later, the guard moans painfully and rises, his eyes burning with red fire. He draws his sword and walks slowly toward Reaver, the hardened bones of the dead cracking and popping as he did. "Well then, now that you have a body you may die easier." Reaver fired again, this time at the skull of the guard. The undead man jerked his head backward at the shot, but soon rose again and faced Reaver. Reaver watched as the bullet wound slowly closed upon itself and healed completely. "Ah, interesting indeed." The possessed body opened his mouth and spoke with the voice of the guard, "We cannot be killed so easily, not anymore." Reaver started to walk around and search the room calmly. "No matter what you do, we shall remain alive and fixated within this world; our souls are far too powerful to be destroyed." Reaver found himself toying with an oil lantern and picked it up with the barrel of his pistol. "The bodies of your pitiful race of men will bend to the will of our power and they will host the fires of darkness. The fire will spread to your cities and villages, burn your great forests, and dry the oceans. And the two of you will be our footstools as we sit upon the thrones of this world." "I do wish you would shut you would, oh so kindly, shut your fucking mouth." Reaver flung the lantern off of his pistol. It struck the guard's head and spilled the oil all over his undead body. Fire immediately spread and burned, lighting the body in a glorious inferno. The guard fell to his knees as the fire spread and scorched his body. Reaver went and grabbed the king by his right arm. "We should really be going now; I get the feeling that the flames won't hold him back for long." "Agreed." The king nodded his head, as well, and they hastily climbed the ropes that still hung from the opening to the hole. They listened closely as the fire slowly died out. Soon enough, the sound of flames died out entirely and they were left only with the sounds of ropes crackling as they climbed. Reaver was slightly below the king and the two of them kept a steady pace. Both were silent on their long climb. Reaver spoke up, "You are quite old to be climbing, much less to wage war on undying shadow creatures." "I am a Hero and King of Albion. I must face all challenges to save my people." "Oh, please," Reaver retorted. "The people of Albion are a lowly, depressing race of creature. They live and they die, they go through pointless cycles of life which matter to no one. The ones who matter are those who are in power, like you, your majesty. And, of course, like me! I have lived for centuries, and bit by bit I scaled the ladder to be at the top of power. I run the business of the world and I progress the world into a new age through the use of Albion's people as my workforce." "The people of Albion are more than workers and slaves; they live lives just like you do. They try each day to survive - to continue their lives as much as the lives of their families. They may not be powerful, but they are people none the less." "Oh, I can promise you that I am nothing like them. And I am nothing like you." They were near the top of the hole at this point. "You would be surprised, Reaver." "Yes… I would," Reaver aimed and fired his pistol upon the rope that the king was climbing on. The rope unwound and snapped, sending the king toppling down the dark hole all the way back into the Chamber of Fate. Reaver continued his climb and soon exited the hole. With a nod to his workers, he dusted off his scarlet jacket and walked casually back to his automatic steam-powered machine. The machinations inside the contraption started turning and roaring; steam billowed from the multiple pipes covering it. Its four wheels started to turn and it soon disappeared over the hills.